The Other Foot
by welovekarmy
Summary: Karma and Amy haven't spoken in a month due to events that have transpired. Will they get back to being best friends or is there something more there?
1. Intro

**_AN: Hey guys, we_lovekarmy here from Twitter. This is the first fanfic I've written in five years, so please be gentle. I just _had _to come out of hiding, because Faking It is amazing. I'm truly obsessed with Karmy.  
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**_Comment regardless if you like it or if you hate it, and I'm very open to suggestions/constructive criticism. If you like it, I'll write more, so please review! _**

**_Also, I apologize for how short this is, but it's just the introduction. The following chapters will be longer._**

**_Here we go. *hides*_**

The Other Foot

You stand in front of the coffee shop, hesitant as ever. Does the outfit you've thrown together at the last possible minute flatter your shape? Do you even have two of the same shoe on? You check, and the answer is yes, phew. Do you look like a person who has been pacing back and forth from one end of your room to the other deciding whether or not to go through with this?

You wonder if you're making a huge mistake, not telling your best friend, the person who has been your entire world since you were five, the truth. The thoughts you've been having. The uncertainty of all of this.

You stare at the door of The Beaver, clutching your bag tightly, like you're holding onto it for dear life. Without thinking it over any further, you walk in.

It's not very loud in The Beaver, but there are a few tables of mostly females who are the source of the light mumbles vibrating off of the dully colored walls. You notice a silver necklace hanging off of one of the girls at the table to the left of the cashiers. It reminds you of the friendship necklace you got _her _when you were twelve. You wince at the thought of how much simpler things were back then.

The girl even looks like your best friend—not nearly as beautiful, but pretty nonetheless with a lovely grin and a perfect set of cheekbones. But this girl isn't _her_. You honestly don't know where she is now—you two haven't spoken in twenty nine days and three hundred sixty five minutes. Not since you…well you don't want to go there right now; not again, anyway.

You both still have a lot of the same classes at Hester. You see her five days a week, but never speak or make eye contact, because that would just make things more difficult than they already are. That's how everything appears to be these days: difficult.

You keep to yourself most of the time, busying a good part of your days with schoolwork. You tell yourself that you're doing it to get into a good college, but deep down you've never cared much about your grades. You two used to study together occasionally, but would get hungry and wind up eating frosting out of the container, binging on _Twilight_ films in the process.

Everything is all kinds of awful right now, which is why you are here now, outside of The Beaver. Trying to figure your shit out so that you can get her back. You _have_ to, because whether you like it or not, she is all you can think about every minute of every day. You decide to stick to the plan you have, because you can't stand another moment without her.

Calm is what you need to be right now. Serene. Because the rainbow flag hanging behind the cash registers reminds you of what being here means.

After you've ordered yourself a mocha cappuccino, you spot an empty table and sit down. The chair is unusually cold, as the air conditioner is blasting right behind you. You should feel grateful for it, since it's particularly hot today in Austin, but you don't. Instead, you are left wishing you had your best friend to keep you warm.

When Sierra walks in, you recognize her right away.

"You looked a lot different on Sizzor," you tell her, but quickly counter with, "Not that you're worse looking or anything, because...Sorry. I've just never done this before."

Initially you're a mix between intimidated and shocked at how good looking this girl is. She is light skinned with dark brown hair that is shaved on one side, and is dressed in a baseball tee and tight blue jeans. After a few minutes, the conversation becomes light and easy, like you've known Sierra for years, not mere minutes.

"When did you realize you were gay?" she asks, and you fall silent. Your coffee cup seems like a better view point than the girl's perfectly symmetrical face. "I'm sorry," the brunette says sincerely. "If you're unsure or whatever, I didn't mean to push or anything."

"No, no, it's okay," you say uncomfortably. "I don't really know _what_ I am, to be honest. I mean labels aren't something I've ever been into. I think I'm into women. Girls. Well," you pause, and frustratingly stare up at the ceiling, "One girl, actually. I'm not really sure what to—"

"Is that why you wanted to meet up? Because I'm not sure that I have the answers you're looking for."

"No, I just—I've never—um—felt like this before and—uh—you seemed nice online and—I don't know!" You realize that you are just entirely unhinged and the girl sitting beside you isn't making things any better. "I have no one else to talk to, and I just figured that someone like you would understand what I'm going through. Fuck knows nobody else does."

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, checking your phones or digging out the dirt from underneath your fingernails, before Sierra apologizes.

"You're right. I do know what it's like to feel confused at fifteen. It sucks and you can't really do anything to control it," she says. "It can be really fucking tough. So who's the girl?"

"My best friend," you say, with a sad smile.

"Man, that's the worst. Why don't you just tell her how you feel?"

You tell her all about faking being lesbians in order to gain popularity and the consequences that came with that. How you and the girl you have conflicting feelings for drifted apart. Being a senior at another school across town, Sierra hardly knows anyone from Hester—an added bonus for you. All of your secrets could remain safe; something she assures you after you show multiple signs of vulnerability.

"I know you have this…_thing_ for your best friend, but it doesn't mean we can't…you know," Sierra says, winking. "Does it? I can teach you the ways of the trade."

You laugh, but you decide that being honest was the best policy. Something you've learned over the past few weeks.

"If the circumstances were different, I would consider it," you flirt. "But I wouldn't want to promise you anything without a payoff. But we can be friends?"

"Friend zoned already? Shit," she jokes. You begin gathering up your belongings and discuss meeting up with Sierra again as you do so. "Well, despite how cute I think you are, I sincerely hope things work out between you and your 'friend.'"

"Thanks. I think I need to pay her a visit," you say, nervous as ever. Just the mere thought of seeing her makes a pit form at the bottom of your stomach. What would you even say to her? How would you even begin to apologize for what you did?

"That's a good start, I think," she says, slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some more fish to fry on Sizzor."

You genuinely laugh, and it's the first time in a month that you've felt yourself do so. "Seriously, thanks for your help. I've been going crazy dealing with this alone."

"Well, you can always text me if you need any more advice," Sierra says. "I am older and in turn, wiser, you know."

"I might take you up on that," you say, and you mean it. "I'll see you around, Sierra."

You walk away from the table and toward the front door, more confident than when you had first walked in. You take a last look at the massive rainbow flag and smile at it—a different reaction than the one you had initially.

"Later, Karma."


	2. Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

_**A/N: Okay, so I know that I haven't updated this in months, so I apologize. :3 It was originally going to stay a one shot, but the finale of S2A has inspired me to take this in a different direction. Hope you enjoy, and please feel free to give any constructive criticism! (:**_

**Chapter 1: Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder**

The trek to the Raudenfeld-Cooper residence feels a lot shorter today, you think. If you weren't in your head so fucking much, maybe walking to your best friend's house wouldn't feel so mechanical. But you're not all that surprised that your muscle memory just guides you there. It _is _your second home, after all.

You knock on the front door hesitantly, hoping Amy won't slam it in your face and leave you outside, heartbroken in the Austen heat. But it's a different blonde who answers, and you feel your heart sink into your stomach.

"Oh, hello Karma," Farrah says delightfully in her posh Texan accent. "Amy isn't here, I'm afraid."

That pit in your stomach takes a new turn, and is replaced with defeat. You're about to turn on your heel and go home to a night of cuddling with your stuffed animals and Netflix in bed, but you know better by now.

You'll never truly give up on your best friend, because your mother always told you that you should never give up on what you love-even if she _was_ talking about her lifelong dream of selling juice from a truck at the time.

"Actually, do you mind if I hang out here until she gets back? My parents are hosting a spiritual circle with their friends and I'm looking for any excuse not to partake in it," you laugh nervously.

The slim weather woman nods her head and moves aside so you can make your way into the living room. It Lauren and Bruce seemed to be out as well, so Farrah looked like she could use the company.

"Are you hungry? My homemade fried upside down cake is just about ready to come out of the oven," she smiles, because she's well aware that it's your favorite dessert. Plus, you were never able to resist Farrah's baking, so why start now?

After a few minutes of stuffing your face and small talk about which after school activities you've joined and how the family business was moving along, the blonde you initially came to see comes up in conversation.

"Between you and me," the Raudenfeld-Cooper says dejectedly, "I'm worried about Amy." _Me too,_you think to yourself. "She's hardly home anymore, and though I'm _overjoyed_ that she has a social life at sixteen, I know it's because you two aren't speaking."

You're taken aback at how much Farrah actually pays attention to what Amy does, how invested she really is in her life, yet the girl has _no_ clue. You'll have to inform her once she finally speaks to you again.

"I-I-um," you stutter, not knowing at all where to begin to explain why the two of you are in limbo, "I've made some mistakes I'm not proud of."

"The two of you are so young, Karma," Amy's mother laughs. "You've been best friends since you were five. You're bound to hit some rough patches."

Farrah takes the empty plates and their forks and places them into the sink. Then she wraps up the rest of the cake, places into the refrigerator and sits back down with elegance. All while you're thinking, just consumed by thoughts of being in this house with the blonde.

Laughing at stupid movies huddled under the same blanket.

Binging on junk food, despite how fattening it may be.

Talking about _everything_ going on in each other's lives.

Doing best friend things. Or more.

"I just want her back in my life," you admit, feeling the tears forming in your eyes. "I have to go." You hurriedly scoop up your bag and walk towards the front door. "Thanks for everything, Farrah."

The next day you wake up to a text from Sierra:

_Don't make any plans Friday. We're going out._

_S._

You groan and glance at your alarm clock. It reads **8:30**.

"Shit!"

You fumble around your room, quickly trying to throw together an outfit that matches. When you finally do, you grab your belongings and head downstairs.

"Karma? Why aren't you at school, sweetie?" You hear your mom yell from the juice truck parked out front.

"Uh-I'm running late," you say nervously. As much as you know that they're ridiculous, you can't seem to lie to your parents again. After you finally came out as a straight girl, you vowed to _never_ disappoint them again. "I have to catch the next bus."

"Don't be silly," your dad says with a grin. "We'll drive you. We're headed there anyway."

You reluctantly agree.

They make small talk and ask how you're doing-something you're thankful for, because your parents are so loving and concerned about their children. They even call Zen every night without a trace of disappointment that he left the Peace Corps.

_They don't have an unsupportive bone in their bodies, _and it assures you that even if you are questioning things about yourself-in any way-that they'll do their best to be there for you.

Like your mother was when you lost Liam and completely _shattered_ Amy's heart;_ which I've done twice now._

But from the looks of it when you pull up to campus, Amy seems perfectly fine. She's on the front lawn of Hester High actually laughing about something with Shane.

You thank your mother and father for the ride and exit the vehicle without lifting your eyes off of the gorgeous blonde. Her perfectly symmetrical face, pearly whites that could make anyone of any gender melt, and her boyish, yet still feminine choice of attire.

_She's perfect, _you think.

You're still too flabbergasted to even attempt to go over to her and Shane, so you try a different approach.

_Can we talk? Please?_

You watch the girl who makes your breath hitch slide her phone out of her pocket and type a reply. It makes you nervous at how quickly she responds.

_Dance studio in an hour. Cool?_

You smile a toothy grin and catch the blonde's eyes from across the lawn. She looks back with a similar smile, but even from a distance you can still see that there's something else there. You look past it for now, because she's actually _willing_ to talk to you.

You don't even care that your feelings for her are complicated, that you've realized a lot of things during these 30 _long_ _fucking_ days. You're just happy that she's even looking in your direction right now, that there's a chance that your friendship will survive what you've done.

What you _both_ have done to each other.

And maybe, just _maybe_, she'll want you two to go back to being each other's world.

_Sounds perfect,_ you reply.


End file.
